The Devil's Tango
by ReignitedN7
Summary: On Halloween night, Lydia scores a photography gig at an underground tango club. Betelgeuse, bored out of his undead mind, begs to go with Lydia. She relents and lets him join her...but will she end up regretting her decision? Short-fic.
1. Chapter 1

A/N:

So THIS is what happens when you've watched The Addams Family Values while listening to tango music while reading Cobwebs and Stripes on your computer while working on a tango drawing between Lydia and Betel…this was going to happen whether or not I wanted it to lol.

This particular rendition of Betelgeuse is based on Adda-the-Ripper version of BJ himself. She has a redesigned look about him-a more refined, almost suavemente Betelgeuse. Mind you he's still the vulgar, disgusting, stinky, pervy BJ we all know and love, but with a hint of Don Juan. Ada also gave him a different look too—his hair (still crazy) is combed back more and his eyes…damn his eyes…that's how I fell in love with her rendition! Instead of the jade/green eyes we know BJ to have, Ada gave him near colorless eyes. All you really see is the piercing of little black dots in his eyes. It's dreamy, creepy, haunting, and lusty all wrapped together and topped with a black bow. So his personality and looks are based off of Ada's comic Cobwebs and Stripes. A fanfic of a fanfic lol.

I've also kept Lydia as close to Ada's vision of her as well. She's way more mature and level headed in her comics…but we all know she's falling for BJ, and she's falling HARD. Just give it time…it'll happen…

So this fic is my own rendition of these two finally realizing they have a "thing" for eachother.

This fic is also being Beta'ed by the amazingly witty and wonderful FairDrea (author of Haunting Temptation) SHE's also another reason why I have to write this fic…it won't leave me be otherwise…

ALSO—expect a mass of cameos.

 **I DO NOT OWN BEETLEJUICE (BETELGEUSE) AND IT'S CHARACTERS. THIS IS FOR PURE FUN. I DO NOT MAKE A PROFIT FROM THIS STORY.**

 **IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT THEN BUGGER OFF.**

* * *

It was a quarter past nine in the evening and Lydia Deetz had never anticipated Halloween more than she did tonight. The moon was full; the night was dark and misty with a hint of ghostly chill. It was perfect.

Her roommate had left for the weekend, giving Lydia free access to whatever music her mood desired. The young Goth twirled and shimmied as she glided back and forth from her mirror to her closet; black skirts floating around her as if spellbound. She sashayed back into her closet and ran her fingers along her hanging necklaces, coming to stop on a particularly long piece. She lifted it from its hook and went back to her mirror. Lifting the necklace high over her head and opening the chain wide, she slipped the necklace around her neck and stared into the mirror.

Lydia wasn't normally one to go to a salon to have her hair done, but today it was a must. Her once black tress was teased, smoothed and sprayed tightly against her head in a French twist topped with a red rose hairpiece.

Her eyes were done in a silver smokey shadow and lined with heavy knohl liner, turning her brown eyes into a warm chocolate glow. A light blush had been applied to her normally pale cheeks and a grey contour applied to the hollow of her cheekbones, neck, and nose. At first, she was against the whole "contouring" phase, but when the makeup artist applied it to her face, in shades of grey and mauve, it made her face appear almost skeletal; and she loved it.

Securing matching earrings to her ears, she leaned into the mirror for the final touch.

 _I'm Not Really a Waitress_ red.

Lydia puckered her lips and slowly applied the lushious red stain across her lips. She took care to not over due the red application and keep the color within the lines of her natural lips. Her mouth widened as the color swept her bottom lip and then she smacked her lips together, effectively blending the lip color together.

In a moment of rare feminine empowerment, Lydia pursed her lips in the mirror's reflection before running her tongue along her bottom lip. She promptly burst out in a fit of giggles before flashing a white toothy smile back at the mirror…only to have her perfectly straight teeth turn into a putrid shade of gray and green. She gasped as her hands flew to her mouth only to realize the cackling poltergeist on the other side of the mirror.

"Betelgeuse…" Lydia scolded lightly. The dead man's image flickered into the mirror's frame, toothy smirk firmly in place. "Trick." His glowing white eyes leered at the woman on the other side of the mirror. "Or treat?" he purred. "You know three is the magic number, Babes."

Lydia stepped back from the mirror and looked down at her hands, which now had red lipstick smeared in the palms of her hands. She frowned slightly before looking up at the ghost.

"Betelgeuse,"

The poltergeist adjusted the lapels of his suit and patted away the dirt from his sleeves as he waited for her to call his name for the final time.

"Betelgeuse!"

Lydia felt the telltale temperature drop as the ghost phased out his mirror prison and into the world of the living. A misty green fog poured from the bottom of the mirror before twirling around Lydia and forming a solid body next to her. The last bit of the mist flipped the bottom of her skirt up for good measure. The Goth girl smacked his now corporeal shoulder and couldn't help but chuckle.

"Happy Halloween Betel."

"Likewise Babes." Betelgeuse snapped his red fingers and juiced up a lit cigarette between his dry lips. His eyes followed Lydia as she floated over to her dresser and fished out a wet wipe and attempted to scrub the lipstick off her hands. It was only when her back was turned to him did he let his eyes wander her figure.

 _Since when did she wear tight shirts and skirts?_ Not that he was complaining. The girl was bound to grow up eventually…and grow up she did. Quite nicely in fact. He was enjoying the little show she was unknowingly putting on for him before he decided to make himself known. Red was a good color on her.

Although, he didn't like her hair in its uptight bun or whatever it's called.

Betelgeuse kicked his feet up and floated lazily in mid air. He blew a dark cloud of smoke between his teeth as he watched Lydia attempt to fix her lipstick.

"So what's the agenda for this annual horrible evening? Picture night again?" he chuckled, reminiscing on their first Halloween shackled together. He had noticed her camera gear laid out on her bed and arranged for packing. Lydia set her lipstick down on her dresser and smirked in the mirror. She twisted her body and faced the poltergeist with a look that could have been easily mistaken for…lust? Her lifted up gracefully while her hands twirled and clicked imaginary castanets. She passed for a dramatic pose and savored the stunned look Betelgeuse was now sporting.

Oh how she wanted to take a picture of this rare moment.

Lydia dropped her hands and laughed. Betelgeuse frowned and shook his head to clear his mind of the sultry image now seared into his brain; chewing on the butt of his cigarette in annoyance.

"Minx." He muttered.

"I've got a gig tonight." Lydia announced as she walked to her bed to check and make sure all her photography equipment is accounted for. Betelgeuse rolled on his stomach and floated down to the bed. He pretended to look interested but instead he gave her a pointed stare with his eerie eyes.

"Yer going to work?" he deadpanned. "On Halloween night?"

"Yup." Lydia suddenly felt guilty and tucked an imaginary strand of hair behind her ear. His eyes narrowed as she avoided looking at him. He really hated her hair.

"But it's a full moon Babes." He plucked the dead cigarette from his mouth and flicked it away, not caring where it landed. Lydia saw the cigarette land on her dresser from the corner of her eye. She frowned.

"Yes I know. I need the money." Lydia still avoided his eyes. Why did she feel so guilty? It's not like they had made plans or anything.

Her bottom red lip was sucked into her mouth and between her teeth. Betelgeuse watched as she worried her lip. "It's a grand opening of an underground tango club and the owners want me to photograph the new patrons." She turned her back to him and went over to the dresser mirror. Damn it, she messed up her lipstick again. "I hear it's a really high end club and only the chosen elite can get in. So I need to dress the part."

"Tango huh? Didn't know you were into dancing."

"I took lessons while…while you were gone. It was years ago but I really enjoyed it."

Betelgeuse remained silent, knowing that she was referring to the time between him being eaten by a sandworm to the time he showed up in shackles in her bedroom. But his silence remained short. He snapped his fingers and in a whirlwind of icy green mist, he appeared by her side again and gazed at his reflection in her mirror.

A toothy green grin cracked his face.

"Well then…I should dress for the occasion."

His fingers snapped. Gone was his signature black and white striped suit and white undershirt. A sleek black fitted suit replaced the former followed by a deep red dress undershirt. The undershirt came undone at the first three buttons and a red handkerchief was neatly folded in his outer breast pocket. A second snap of his fingers and silver skull cufflinks appeared. He lifted them up and adjusted them between his stained fingers; all the while leering at Lydia who stood back with her arms crossed and watched his dramatic wardrobe change.

A twitch of his hand and a black lacquered cane appeared twirling between his fingers. He set down the tip with a thud and between his fingers, brandished the ruby eyed skull at the top of the cane.

Turning towards the mirror, Betelgeuse inspected his appearance before realizing something was missing.

 _Snap._

A top hat appeared on the crown of his head.

"Too formal,"

 _Snap._

A ball cap.

"Informal,"

 _Snap._

Red fedora.

 _Snap_

Black fedora.

"Perfect," he reached for the brim of the fedora and tilted it forward on his head.

 _Snap._

Red tinted round vintage glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. He squinted.

"Too vampire-y"

 _Snap._

The red turned green. He liked green but it didn't work. Snap.

Violet.

"Now we're talking." He turned to Lydia and twirled his cane in one hand before bowing dramatically before her. "Shall we?" He extended a clammy hand to her and waited.

And waited.

Lydia still stood with her arms crossed as she eyed Betelgeuse's new ensemble.

"I don't know Betel…I don't need trouble at the club. I really can't mess this up." She sighed. Honestly she'd really like him to come…but trouble tends to follow the poltergeist wherever he goes.

Betelgeuse's jaw dropped to the floor, literally. He scooped up his fallen jaw and replaced it back with a sickening grind of bone against bone.

"Babes!" he cried out. "You're not going to leave me to my lonesome on the best fucking night of the year…" He contorted his face in an effort to look like a sad dog, hands coming up and resting in a plea over his chest. Lydia stared right back at him with a delicately manicured eyebrow arching up.

Damn, even her eyebrows look sexy tonight. He thought.

"Look, I'll make ya a deal." Betelgeuse shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Any trouble and you can wish me away with the magic B words."

"You and your deals." Lydia commented, but she lifted those perfectly red lips in a small smile. Or not so perfect, there was a smudge in a corner. His face cracked with a wicked smile.

"Yeah." He reached out and took her chin in his hand gently. "Me and my deals." He ran his thumb along the edge of her lip line and juiced the smudge away while deepening the color of the stain. His eyes glowed eerily as they remained locked on her own brown ones. He then let his hand drop to his side, leering grin still firmly in place. "So…do we have a deal?"

* * *

Yeah so I threw in an Alucard reference...did you see it?


	2. Chapter 2

**Well shit...this is turning out to be a little longer than I expected...but the show must go on!**

 **Please remember to review! I love hearing what my viewers think of the story!**

 **ALSO-keep in mind that this is a fanfic of a fan comic. If the story doesn't seem to make sense at certain points, go educate yourself on DeviantArt via Cobwebs and Stripes.**

 **I DON'T OWN ANDY CAST/CHARACTERS FROM BEETLEJUICE/BETELGEUSE OR ANY CAST/CHARACTERS FROM THE ADDAMS FAMILY. IF I DID I WOULD BE LONG GONE AND DRUNK SOMEWHERE IN THE FLORIDA KEYS.**

* * *

Betelgeuse watched from the passenger's side of the car as Lydia fiddled with the GPS. Her eyebrows were knit together and she kept shaking the GPS in frustration. She then gave up and tossed the items onto her lap.

"Problems?" Betel deadpanned. Lydia grabbed the paper from her lap and thrust it towards Betel.

"GPS can't find it." She spat. Of course, on the one night where her career teters on life and death, her dad's gifted $500 GPS decided not to work for her. She would have buried her face in her hands if it wasn't for the $100 worth of makeup plastered on her face.

Betel watched the mortal girl anguish for a moment before turning to the paper in his hands. A scribble of various numbers was all that was written on it.

He snickered.

"What's so funny?!" Lydia spat, highly annoyed that the ghost found humor in her problem.

"Stupid machine won't recognize this," Betel waved the paper in her face before leaning forward and placing a hand on the dashboard. "They're coordinates."

Lydia's eyes widened as the realization dawned on her. The GPS only went by addresses. She felt the embarrassment wash cover her like a wet blanket. "Sorry." she squeaked. Betel only grinned at her, watching her emotions play across her face. He then turned his attention to the hand on the dashboard.

" _Hang on."_

Before Lydia could question his intentions, her body lurched forward and then up. She screamed as memories of the roller coaster in the Afterlife assaulted her memory and her stomach. She held a hand to her mouth and waited for the car to drop. It landed within seconds on solid ground and bobbed to a standstill.

Thank God Lydia had her seatbelt on.

Betelgeuse couldn't help but laugh at her horrified expression. Lydia smacked him on the knee. He flinched away from the abuse but still laughing.

"Betel!" she fixed him with her best glare. "Warn a girl the next time you decide to transport us through the inner dimensions!" Lydia unbuckled her seatbelt and threw her car door open. Betel followed suite and stepped out of the car. He adjusted the lapels of his suit and juiced his cane into his left hand.

"Betel..are you sure this is the right place?"

Betelgeuse looked up at his surroundings and grinned. Surely, they were in the middle of the ass end of nowhere. Under the moonlit night, an ocean of sand stretched for miles around them, save for the lone hill of a limestone formation. At the foot of the rocky hill blinked a simple neon sign that read "Enter Here". A blinking arrow pointed at a pair of wooden gothic doors with heavy knockers. Lydia noted that this could have been something found inside Adam's model…or something Betelgeuse would juice up…

Betel sided up to her and conciderred the neon sign. _Classy._ He mused.

"Yup. The juice knows where to go. Never got lost before." Betel paused for an afterthought. "Except once. Never again."

"Where did you get lost?" Lydia asked as she turned heel get her gear from the trunk.

"Detroit."

"Detroit?"

"Detroit. Never again." Betel shuddered as unwanted memories filtered into his head. He shook himself violently to rid them and tried to occupy himself by following Lydia to the back of the car. She thrust the car keys into the keyhole and popped the trunk hood open.

"Need a hand?" Betel offered. The moment he spoke, his right hand disconnected from his arm and jumped into the interior of the trunk. "Babes?" he asked, noticing the blank expression she wore as she stared into the trunk. "Awe come on. It's not like you've ever seen it before-" Betel's hand scuttled on all five fingers and proceeded to grab her camera bag-

Until another dismembered hand grabbed it at the same time.

The pair stared in silence as the two dismembered hands battled each other for possession of the camera bag. Betel's hand flicked it's opposer, which was remarkably normal looking human hand. It's wrist was oddly...clean. No blood, no gore, no pus. There wasn't even a silvery scar to be seen. It's as if it was a clean cut from dough...or perhaps a manniquin?

The two hands shuffled around on their fingers before locking together in an invisible arm wrestling game. Lydia blinked a few times before her lips curved into a smile.

"Oh come on!" Betel growled as the "normal" hand slammed his own down onto the fabric of the trunk. It then crawled towards Lydia's camera bag and somehow hauled it out of the trunk. She muttered a quiet thank you and the hand responded with a thumbs up before dragging her bag across the gravel.

"S'a matter with you?!" The ghost shouted. Betel's hand turned towards its owner and promtly brought up it's middle finger. Growling even louder, Betel snatched up his hand and roughly reattached it to his arm. "I'll show you-GAH!"

Lydia broke out in laughter as Betel's and latched onto his throat and tossed him bodily to the ground. Turning from the single man fight scene, she picked up the front of her skirt and followed the hand and her camera bag, being mindful of the gravel beneath her heeled shoes.

Betel wrestled with his hand a minute longer before throwing it down and sending a jolt of juice through it. His hand straightened in mock pain and then fell limp at the wrist. Betel smirked and picked himself and his cane up from the ground. A quick pat and a spark of juice and his black suit returned to its former pristine state. For now at least...it was Betelgeuse after all.

He twirled his cane skillfully between his fingers and followed the mortal girl to the doorway of the club; his swag fully reinstated.

* * *

Lydia stood rooted to the club's floor as she took in the surrounding atmosphere. She was skeptical when they first followed the walking hand down a stretch of stairs that seemed to go on forever, but when they broke level ground, the narrow stairwell opened up to an open void of darkness and lights.

She couldn't believe it...the club was an underground cave.

And not just any club.

In an open pocket to the far end of the club, sat a string band of Victorian dressed courtesans behind iron bars. The women skillfully drew their bows across the taut strings, creating a beautiful melody that seemed to sing across the cave's walls.

Elegantly drecorated tables filled most of the club's decor and surrounded a large oakwood floor in the middle of the club. Lydia had her camera already in hand and was about to lift it to snap a few shots before she felt the weight of Betel's hand rest on her shoulder. He gently pulled her close to his side. She put the camera down and was about to ask what was wrong...and then she fell still.

The noise level in the club had dropped dramatically and hundreds of eyes were suddenly very interested in her. Lydia stared back into the crowded, searching the many faces.

Her hand grabbed at Betel's sleeve unconsciously and he looked down at her with a grin. He had heard of this place, and by the looks of it he was right.

According to the _Handbook for the Recently Deceased_ , ghosts weren't the only supernatural beings on the planet.

 _Oh no._

Vampires, werewolves, banshees, swamp monsters, and even the occasional zombie escapee...they all existed. Hell, he was even friends with the creature from the black lagoon...

Lydia must have glossed over _that_ part of the handbook.

Vampires and werewolves had it real easy, having human counterparts and what not. Anything besides those two particular types of undead tended to keep to themselves.

The crowd had a sprinkle of vampires here and a few werewolves over there, but from what Betelgeuse could tell, the majority of "patrons" here were the mentally deranged populace of human beings-the only kind of humans who could possibly fit in amongst the dead and feel completely comfortable.

Just like his Babes.

Save for that one really hairy guy in the corner. _The fuck is_ that _?_ Betel couldn't tell if he was human, let alone mortal, from the amount of hair cascading over...his? its?...body. He admitted he's seen some weird shit in his 600 years...but that's a new one.

Turning his attention back to his little mortal companion, Betelgeuse released a small spark of juice into the crowd. Those who were closest to him visibly flinched and turned away. Everyone else who received the subtle warning responded with either a simple nod or a dramatic roll of the eyes.

"Lydia darling!"

The spell broke in the air as the musicians strung up another song and the patrons returned to their previous conversations. The sudden onslaught of noise was almost deafening to Lydia, but she quickly snapped out of it as a woman dressed in a tight fitting black dress glided up to her and her ghostly companion. Lydia put on her best smile for she had recognized this woman's voice from over the phone.

This was the owner's wife and misstress of the club.

"Mrs. Addams?"

The woman, whose face was remarkably oval and pale, smiled demurely with her red tinted lips.

"In the very flesh." she whispered with a teasing wink of her dark eyes. "But please, do call me Morticia." she reached for Lydia's hands and held them within her own. They were cold hands, not nearly as cold as Betel's, but enough to catch her off guard. "I can tell you how much this means to Gomez and I."

"Oh sure. I mean it's an honor Mrs. Addams-I mean Morticia." Lydia stuttered. She was slightly being blindsided by Morticia Addams. This woman was one of the most beautiful women Lydia had ever met, and she's seen quite a few in her photography career. Pale skin, red lips, dark eyes, black hair, and a figure to die for. Lydia suddenly felt underdressed...and slightly underdeveloped.

Morticia must of felt Lydia's unease as she squeezed the girl's hand affectionately. Her dark eyes slid over to the man standing next to Lydia.

"And you brought a friend?" Morticia slid a hand away from Lydia and presented it to Betel.

Lydia silently beseeched Betelgeuse and made note of the number of rings on Morticia's hand...lest one go missing suddenly.

 _Don't you fuck this up_.

"Madam." Betelgeuse purred in his throat as he took her hand in his own and leaned down to brush his lips across her elegantly bony knuckles. His white eyes flicked over to Lydia before releasing Morticia's hand. The mistress of the club pursed her lips demurely and her eyes flashed. Betelgeuse countered with a leer of his own and squinted his pale eyes at her.

Lydia had the sudden feeling that the two just shared a joke that she wasn't preview to.

She was once again caught off guard when Morticia folded her hands neatly to her chest and paused expectantly. Betel shoved his hands in his pocket and looked at Lydia sideways.

The pause felt heavy before it dawned on her.

It seems the club and it's owners stand on high ceremony. She needed to get on the ball and quick.

"Excuse me!" her face grew red from embarrassment "Morticia, may I introduce to you Betel-" she paused at the glare she received from the poltergeist. "Beetleman. Benjamin Beetleman."

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Beetleman." Morticia dipped in a small curtsy and once again took Lydia by the hand. Betel inclined his head and tipped his fedora acknowledgement. Morticia then turned to look over her shoulder and beckoned the nearest weightress. "Delilah my dear, could you show Mr. Beetleman to one of the house tables? Make sure he's comfortable." she then focused Lydia and smiled. Hand in hand, Morticia lead Lydia away and over to a candle lit table by the bar; just slightly off from the dance floor. "My dear, we have this table set up for you over here. Feel free to use it as you see fit."

Lydia nodded silently and set her camera equipment down on the table, mindful not to knock over the candles and end up dumping wax on her camera.

She snuck a tiny glance over her shoulder to where Betelgeuse was being seated. He somehow got ahold of a cigar and was grinning up at the waitress at his table.

"Here is a scheduled course of events for tonight's entertainment. Photos of the hall are a necessity but I would much rather you photograph our lovely patrons on the dancefloor." Morticia was about to go on with her list when she noticed the girl's attentions was elsewhere.

The mistress smiled knowingly as she followed Lydia's gaze towards the ghost seated in VIP.

 _Oh, young love._ She mused.

She placed a well meaning hand on Lydia's shoulder before offering her a smile.

"I know we hired you for your profession, but I do hope you find some time to spend on the dancefloor."

Lydia smiled politely as she hung her camera strap around her neck.

"That's very kind of you, but I haven't danced in years."

Morticia shrugged and circled around Lydia before leaning in and whispering in her ear.

"I'm sure a self proclaimed _Ghost with the Most_ can spark that old flame in you." The club's mistress lowered her eyes and smiled demurely when Lydia's head snapped up with full attention. Morticia sighed longingly and placed a gentle hand on the young girl's face; patting it affectionately.

"Do let me know if you need anything else dear."

* * *

 **Wonder who the hand was...and that hairy dude...?**


	3. Chapter 3

_So first off I'm loving the attention this fic is getting! Thank you to all who've read and reviewed! I feel the love!_

 _NEXT-Thank you to my heart Beta FairDrea for looking over and correcting the grammar horrors that I write...love ya Babes 3_

 _ALSO-For those who still haven't read my previous notes, this is a fanfic based off of a fan comic called Cobwebs and Stripes. You can find this comic on DeviantArt. I highly suggest you read it first before continuing my fic!_

 **DISCLAIMER:**

 **I DO NOT OWN BEETLJUICE/BETELGEUSE AND ITS CHARACTERS AS WELL AS ANY CHARACTERS FROM THE ADDAMS FAMILY.**

* * *

Lydia set her camera down on the table for the first time in three hours. She smiled and stroked the camera's black surface fondly. Three memory cards didn't seem enough to capture this hidden gem, but alas, the camera could do no more for her.

She quickly learned that the dancers of the evening weren't fond of her flash, and so had to improvise with the bartender, Ada, holding candles in weird angles and a few juice favors from Betel.

Currently, a vampire couple glided across the floor in a slow waltz. The lady's dress rippled under her as her partner twisted and turned her as if she was a porcelain doll. The fact that her skin and makeup actually looked porcelain added more to the vision.

Lydia sighed longingly. Oh, how she missed dancing.

It was one of many attempts Delia made at trying to "normalize" her step-daughter. After the shotgun wedding stunt, Delia felt that it was time for Lydia to "move on" and "try new things". She felt that her step-daughter wouldn't be able to grow as a young lady if she remained in the macabre that her photography revolved around. Lydia couldn't help but cringe at the irony. Delia's artistic talent was beyond any horror that Lydia could ever hope to capture through the lense of her camera.

At first Delia suggested other artistic outlets, such as painting and sculpting. Lydia wasn't into sculpting as much as oil painting, but the outcome remained the same as she would create her own renditions of famous abstracts, such as Dali and Munch. This lasted a little over a month before Delia decided _for_ her that painting wasn't Lydia's forte.

If only Delia knew...or not. Perhaps if she never knew that her step-daughter prefered to spend her days in the company of a ghost.

Her brown eyes drifted to the lone poltergeist in VIP.

She should probably go check in on him…

* * *

Betel had his boots propped up on the table, a glass of some sort of green liquid clasped in his hand that he was idly swirling. He lifted it to his lips, but not before a tiny green winged creature—a fairy?—emerged from his glass. He lifted the glass away and waved a hand at the creature, sending it fluttering away before tipping his drink back.

Lydia cringed as he let out a loud belch and blew away the green smog that came with it.

"Babes." He grinned as Lydia approached the table. He swung his feet off the table and lurched forward in his chair. He then juiced a cigar and placed it between his teeth, biting the end.

"Mr. Beetleman," She replied with an incline of her head. "How fair you?"

Betel shrugged and with a snap, lit his thumb on fire. The cigar hovered over the flame before he huffed a few dark puffs of smoke between his lips. Fingers snapped again to extinguish.

"Not my type of hang out but I guess it's ok." He watched Lydia pull out a seat for herself. "Pretty sure that blue hair bartender owes me money." He gestured with a nod of his head towards the bar.

"Everyone owes you money," Lydia smirked but then held up a hand. "No, wait, I'm sure you owe her money."

"Smartass."

"Learning from the best," Lydia sighed and fiddled with the tablecloth lace. "So, just ok?"

"Yeah. I mean the drinks are good and the broads behind the iron bars can crank out a decent tune, but besides that, it's pretty boring here." As if to make a point, Betel leaned forward, rested his elbows on the table and sank his face into his hands. He blew a ring of cigar smoke in her face. Lydia coughed and waved away the offending fumes.

"How's the pictures coming' long?"

Lydia shrugged and turned her attention to the couple on the dance floor.

"I think I'm pretty much done. It was easier with a digital camera; I was able to take twice the amount of pictures. Just wish I brought more memory cards." She finished the sentence with a slight hum in her voice. Betel watched her from the corner of his eye. She was acting strange. He had been watching her the entire visit and as she took pictures of people, decor, and even mantle dust, it almost seemed like her feet had a mind of their own...as if she were-

"Did you think about maybe dancing?" she offered with a nod towards the dance floor. She was feeling a bit hopeful that he may want to dance with her, if for anything an excuse for her take up Morticia's offer earlier.

Her hopes dropped when Betel snorted through his nose.

"Yer kidding right?" He slapped a hand down on the table as he shook with laughter. "Me? Up there doin that rich people funeral march?" His laugh turned into a cackle. Lydia, who was now feeling a little annoyed,crossed her arms over her chest. She liked the waltz. It was one of the first dances she had learned.

"That'll be the day Babes." Betel took a long drag on his cigar before blowing a few more rings in her direction. She coughed and pinned him with a glare. He shrugged and waved away the smoke from her face.

"Anyhoo, I aint into that waltzy shit."

Humming,Lydia rolled her eyes. She turned away from the ghost and crossed her legs under the table.

Betel grunted and continued to smoke his cigar.

Did she really expect him to dance? Let alone dance with her? Sure, they had grown closer over the past year and sure, she did want to spend more time with him. It was times like these, however, where he really felt the need to put the brakes on any emotional feelings, rare as they may silently fumed as she watched the same vampire couple dance on the floor before coming to a resting pose. The gentleman dipped his lady partner with a reverence reserved only for her andthe crowd began to applaud. Lydia clapped her hands politely. Stiffly.

Betel cleared his throat and leaned over to bumped shoulders with her.

"Now see here, it don't mean I-"

 _"Betelgeuse!"_

Betel's shoulders tensed for a split moment before throwing his hand down hard on the table. A growl rolled low in his throat as he turned towards the sudden intruder at their table. Lydia took one look between the club owner and poltergeist and was about to intervene-for whatever reason-before the club owner beat her to it.

And beat he did.

Gomez Addams rounded their table and landed a heavy hand against Betel's back with a loud _**thwack.**_ The ghost nearly fell forward on the table but saved ground by rocking his weight on his elbows. His cigar fell from between his crooked teeth and rolled across the table.

Gomez reared his head back in a howling laugh.

"Oh Betel-"

" _Aye!"_ Betel glared at the club's owner from the corner of his eye. "Easy on the 'B' words there, _Addams._ "

Lydia could tell the ghost was seconds away from landing his fist in the handsome owner's face. She darted her hand out and covered his own, hoping to somewhat calm him. She didn't need him losing his temper in front of the owner but she had to turn her face away, lest he see the smile plastered across her face.

"It's been, how long now?" Gomez paused thoughtfully and dug in a hand in his inner jacket pocket. "Years, Old Man!" he produced a silver tray to which he opened and skimmed out a cigar.

Lydia couldn't help but snicker through her nose. She covered her smile behind her hand before Betel could pin her with a glare.

Betelgeuse was chronologically hundreds of years Gomez' senior, but the ghost looked almost twenty years younger than Gomez. _Almost;_ if you took away the layers of mold, dirt, dandruff and whatever else Betel prided himself over.

For a moment, Lydia wondered what Betel would even look like if he was completely clean.

Like that would ever happen.

Gomez plucked Betel's forgotten cigar on the table, turning it this way and that, before tossing it over his shoulder. He chuckled as he heard the distinct sound of a woman in distress. The cigar must have landed in her lap. Or hair.

Lydia looked between the two men before asking "How?"

"Gomez here had a job for me about a decade ago. Seems like his brother...Funkle?"

"Fester,"

"Yeah, that dude. Anyway this Fester dude got himself into some real trouble with this blond bimbo-" Gomez cut Betel off with a simple lift of his hand; in which Betel just shrugged.

"My dear brother's wife was caught in love's most cruel claws; the love for money. She sought to have him murdered in every shape and form possible,"

"Murdered?" Lydia asked with shock written on her face. "As in, attempted murder...right?"

"Electrocution by water, food poisoning-arsenic, I do believe. She even tried to bring down the very house they lived in upon his head!" Gomez paused thoughtfully. "It was truly artistic."

Lydia continued to sit and stare. Betel waved a hand in front of her and she jumped back a bit, frowning at him.

"Anyways, the broad ended up frying her own ass off in an electrical outage, but once they put her in the ground her ghost kept waking up the dead relatives." Betel smirked and eyed Lydia. "They called me in to disrupt the disruptions."

The two men settled in silence. Lydia wanted to ask what Betel meant exactly but maybe it was best she didn't know...

"Here," Gomez held out his silver cartridge of cigars to Betel. "A little gift left behind from Moctezuma's private reserve." Betel eyed Gomez for a brief moment before snatching up a cigar. He held it to his nose and sniffed.

"Smells like it's been sitting in the dead guy's tomb for 600 years."

"Six hundred and fifty seven, to be exact,"

Betelgeuse waved away the lighter Gomez offered, bit the end of the cigar and lit his thumb. He took a long drag off the ancient cigar before releasing the grey smoke between his teeth. Holding it out in front of him, he examined it once more before taking another drag.

"Smooth," he hummed. "Not bad once you get over the first taste of burning, moldy tobacco." He inclined his head in thanks and sat back in his chair to enjoy. Gomez nodded in agreement and lit up his own cigar. He sat in an opposite chair and leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest.

They sat in silence, fat cigars hanging from their mouths, neither one really wanting to join in conversion. It was almost like a staring contest-a contest that was causing Lydia to squirm. Then, like a hound catching a scent, Gomez turned to Lydia and flashed her a sly smile. His eyes narrowed slightly as he scooped her smaller hand into his and brought her knuckles to his lips.

"My dear Ms. Deetz, it is truly an honor for you to come here and capture the very essence that is my humble bistro," Gomez purred as he released her hand. Lydia felt her cheeks burn under the owner's intense gaze. She shyly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled.

"Morticia went on for hours and hours about how she had to have you for the grand opening." He chuckled low in his throat. His dark eyes flicked over to Betel before settling back on Lydia.

"Who am I to deny her every wish?"

Betelgeuse narrowed his hollow eyes as he watched the two breathers interact. Lydia leaned in a little closer to Gomez with her red lips curved up in a smile.

"The honor is all mine, really. This place is just amazing and I'd love to frequent it more often." She made a small hand gesture towards the dancefloor. "I'd love to come for a dance one day and take more pictures, if possible."

"But of course!" Gomez raised his voice and slammed his hand down on the table. He plucked his cigar from his mouth and opened his arms with a grand flourish. "There is no point of being here, if not to dance to your soul's content!" He then let out a hearty laugh before returning to his cigar. Lydia smiled politely.

"Like I said, I'd love to come back and spend more time here." She then nodded her head towards Betel. "But unfortunately I'm at a loss for a dance partner," she ended with soft mutter. Lydia wasn't sure if Betel heard her or not from his lack of reaction. He continued to smoke his cigar and watch the other patrons; paying the two at his table no mind.

Gomez leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together.

"Well then," Gomez addressed Lydia with a sly smile. "We can't have that now, can we?"

* * *

 _FYI...600 year old Aztec cigars are legit...look it up!_


End file.
